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It takes a few minutes, but he replies, and I let out a huge sigh of relief.
RomanticSadist:
Glad you’re good with discrete. Why waste time on you? You mean because you’re only in it for book research and not for meeting up? I mean, still an intelligent, hot friend. Don’t get me wrong… I think it would be incredibly interesting to meet up with you soon to see if we vibe enough to have fun. But if it’s not what you want…
My heart does a backflip, making my tummy feel funny. He made it known he’s on the app to meet a play partner. His previous comment about not wanting it to be one time either makes me feel better, because that means he’s less into fucking once and then ghosting. And the part about how I could still be an intelligent, hot friend and wouldn’t be a waste of time—that… meant a lot to me to read. Sadly.
But I don’t want to be one of those girls who basically catfishes a guy by posting their very best-looking photo, only for them to meet in person and find out it was from ten years ago. That’s the second time he’s mentioned finding me attractive, and seeing as it’s my professional author photo Clarice took for me, in full hair and makeup and a cute-as-fuck ensemble, I don’t want him to have the wrong impression.
WillDive4Plants:
?? Well, that’s nice to hear for sure. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve seen me at the gym and just don’t recognize me in my photo. I was there literally every day until recently, just hiding behind my laptop like a little cave creature. But I 100% do NOT look like my profile pic when I’m there. I’m always in workout/author mode and look like a swamp thing ??
There. At least now he’s been warned and won’t have it in his head that he’s talking to some supermodel. When his next message comes in, I snort out a laugh.
RomanticSadist:
I always say if I meet you all done up, you’ve only really got one way to go… although I do appreciate a submissive going down ????
“Aaawww… he’s punny,” I coo to Kronk, who actually gets up from his pillow and sidles up close to me, booping my hand holding my cell with the top of his head. I give him a scratch behind his ears with my other hand, then text Gym Daddy back.
WillDive4Plants:
*cackles* ??? Notes for future use.
With only a few messages, he’s managed to put me at ease. Enough even that I decide to send him a more accurate depiction of me. I have to scroll for a good five minutes, because apparently I haven’t taken any selfies in a fucking long time, yet I have taken a gazillion photos of plants and screenshots of random shit on the internet.
Finally, I come across a photo of Astrid and me in the women’s locker room at the gym. She’s sprawled in one of the lounge chairs wrapped up in a hundred towels from head to toe, fresh from the steam room. Even her face is covered with a sheet mask, but you can still see her grinning for the picture. I’m dressed in a comfy tank and leggings, hair in a messy bun, glasses on, my laptop sitting on my hips in a chair that matches Astrid’s. I always loved writing in that spot, right between the steam room and the hot tub. Every time someone opens the door, a cloud of eucalyptus-scented steam comes pluming out, and it’s heavenly.
I suddenly really miss going to the gym. It’s always been a happy place for me. I just haven’t had the motivation to go, especially with the weird schedule my body has gotten on as far as sleep goes. But what would it be like going to the gym now, knowing I could see Gym Daddy in person, and also knowing he’s totally aware of his not-so-secret admirer? No more being just some random hot mess on the treadmill who could watch him all I wanted without him noticing.
As I attach the photo, I let my mind wander. What would it be like not only being someone he knows at the gym, but maybe… someone he talks to frequently? Like every day? He’s fit as fuck. Do I have the balls to ask him if he’s done personal training before? I send the picture along with my message, which does not include my wonderings.
WillDive4Plants:
It took me forever, but I finally found a pic in my natural habitat.
But the second I hit the Send button, a notification pops up on the screen, and I growl.
Oh, WTF? I have to pay to be able to send you photos? Dirty bastards.
RomanticSadist:
Yeah, it sucks. But if you have Kik, we can just switch to that app and it would be free.
